What the little Nine-Tails was thinking was beyond Natsuhiko, and in truth, he had far more pressing matters occupying his mind.
For instance, where exactly should he plant the Nine-Tails' chakra he currently held? And when Hiruzen Sarutobi went to visit the Daimyō, how should he deal with the so-called Twelve Guardian Ninja?
Obito's arm was still embedded inside that tree, and even by the time Natsuhiko set out, there had been no response whatsoever.
It made him wonder if he had simply been absurdly lucky before—if that one perfect attempt had just happened to trigger Asura's power.
Was it possible that things weren't like before anymore, and that he simply couldn't obtain what he wanted this time?
The thought wasn't far-fetched. In fact, it seemed quite likely. Though it left him somewhat helpless, there wasn't much he could do about it.
All he could do now was wait—wait and see if that tree might produce some kind of miracle.
The growth of Asura's power was directly tied to the evolution of his bloodline. Having already reached an intermediate level, Natsuhiko had no intention of stagnating. He longed for something greater, something beyond what he currently possessed.
The future was turbulent and unpredictable; with his current strength, he could barely secure a foothold. And if he truly intended to become the ultimate force in the shinobi world, then this mindset alone would never suffice.
He had to keep moving forward. Keep improving. Keep climbing to higher ground.
"Now that I think about it… the path I'm taking is practically the same as the Ōtsutsuki. Could it be that one day, I'll end up with a pair of special eyes too?"
He hadn't given much thought to eyes before, but now that he considered it carefully, it didn't seem so impossible.
After all, among the Ōtsutsuki, not having some kind of unique dōjutsu would be the strange thing.
As for what kind it might be—a Sharingan, a Rinnegan, or perhaps the most primitive Byakugan—that was anyone's guess.
Still, such things were far too distant to worry about now. Thinking too much about them wouldn't do him any good.
"Besides, even if I did gain a pair of eyes, I've long since grown used to fighting without relying on them. At best, they'd just be a nice bonus."
And it was true. Even if he did awaken some powerful dōjutsu, it would merely enhance what he already had. His combat style was already well-established. In fact, if he were suddenly given something like the Sharingan or Rinnegan—eyes better suited for precise, micro-level control—it might not even suit him at all.
With a faint chuckle, Natsuhiko stretched lazily. His thoughts hadn't been entirely unrealistic, but dwelling on them any longer would be pointless.
There were more immediate concerns to deal with—namely, the so-called Twelve Guardian Ninja.
Or rather, eleven now.
Kazuma had already been taken care of. The rest might pose some trouble, but not enough to truly challenge him.
Of course, they weren't to be underestimated. There was, for example, that group of four who could combine their power to unleash the terrifying Lightning Release technique known as Limelight Jutsu.
And then there was Chiriku, the monk who had taken in Sora in the original story—someone who likely had mastery over senjutsu.
As for the others, Natsuhiko couldn't be bothered to remember them all. The only reason these few stood out in his memory was because they leaned toward Konoha's ideology.
The rest, however, believed that the Daimyō was the true "king." They were determined to elevate him to a position far beyond what he currently held.
In a sense, they were warriors pushing against the tide. Natsuhiko couldn't help but feel a certain respect for such idealists—especially those who didn't just dream, but acted.
People like Jiraiya. Like Minato Namikaze. He respected them all the same.
But Kazuma and his faction were a different matter entirely. Not only did their actions run counter to the current era, they also directly threatened the interests of shinobi like him.
And for people like that, there were only two possible outcomes:
Either they never got caught—
Or they would be wiped out completely.
Unfortunately for them, their fate was already sealed—Natsuhiko would be the one to erase them. Still, perhaps it wasn't entirely meaningless; at the very least, they would die for the sake of their ideals.
"At a minimum, five of them have to go," he murmured to himself. "But considering how closely they operate as a unit, it's likely the number will be even higher."
He let out a quiet sigh, though a faint smile still lingered on his lips.
"It's regrettable, of course. But for the Daimyō's safety—and to eliminate unstable elements—some bloodshed and sacrifice are unavoidable. There's simply no helping it."
His casual remark earned him a puzzled glance from the little Nine-Tails.
The creature couldn't make sense of what this human—its own creator, in a way—was rambling about. But judging from the tone, it was clear enough that Natsuhiko wasn't thinking about anything particularly good again, which left it feeling rather speechless.
Even so, it held its tongue. After being repeatedly lectured by Natsuhiko about the differences between humans and animals, it had long since given up on blurting out things like "just kill them all." It wasn't about to invite more annoyance for itself.
"Oh, right—hey, little guy." Natsuhiko suddenly seemed to recall something and turned his attention to it. "You've inherited that big one's memories, haven't you? Then do you know anything about… special chakra?"
"Special chakra?" The little Nine-Tails tilted its head, clearly confused. "Why are you asking that? And what exactly do you mean by 'special'?"
"Special chakra… well, something like…" Natsuhiko rubbed his chin, only to realize he couldn't quite put it into words.
Now that he had more or less settled how to deal with those eleven, his thoughts naturally shifted back to the little Nine-Tails.
For him, the best outcome at the moment was for this creature to grow stronger.
If it improved, it could provide him with more chakra to nurture his "seeds"—and perhaps even offer some level of assistance in battle.
But how exactly should he define "special chakra"?
Did he simply mean tailed beast chakra?
"Actually, if you're talking about chakra that doesn't belong to anyone, but is clearly different from human chakra…" the little Nine-Tails spoke again just as Natsuhiko was deep in thought.
"I do remember something like that. And there's a lot of it—an enormous amount."
"Oh?" Natsuhiko's eyes lit up slightly. That was exactly the kind of answer he had been hoping for. "Where?"
"Well… you've come into contact with it before. If anything, you should know better than anyone where it is."
The little Nine-Tails gave him a strange look before continuing leisurely,
"Isn't it in your memories? You were even planning to go back and take it for yourself."
Natsuhiko froze for a moment—then a faint smile slowly spread across his lips.
Only now did it dawn on him that he had overlooked the most accessible option of all.
...
There was a saying: the darkest place is right under the lamp.
That was precisely his situation.
He already possessed access to a vast reserve of special chakra—something he could practically call his own. And yet, he had subconsciously ignored it. Or rather, in his mind, that power had always been reserved for other purposes.
For example, to accelerate the maturation of his "seeds," or to expand his own chakra reserves. Because of that, he had never once considered using it in this way.
But with the little Nine-Tails' reminder, he suddenly realized that he had been sitting on a treasure all along.
If he wanted, even that so-called Zero-Tails could be considered a form of special chakra. It might even be worth looking into.
"In the end, these 'special chakras' really are just the same thing I once thought of—ownerless chakra," Natsuhiko reflected silently as he walked alongside Hiruzen Sarutobi.
After last night's realization, he already had a rough plan forming in his mind. But if he wanted to reclaim the chakra of the Ryūmyaku… he would still need to wait.
At the very least, he would only set those plans into motion after dealing with the matters currently at hand.
Still, having a direction was already enough. He was no longer stumbling around like a headless fly, chasing vague possibilities without purpose.
Of course, just to be safe, he chose to hold on to that chakra for the time being. If the Ryūmyaku's power failed to produce the desired results, he would still have a fallback. It was never a mistake to prepare an extra layer of insurance.
As Natsuhiko and Hiruzen Sarutobi approached the Daimyō's palace, the two of them came to a mutual stop, exchanging a quiet glance.
"Natsuhiko, I'll go meet the Daimyō," Hiruzen said first, his tone calm but firm. "As for the Guardian Ninja… I'll leave them to you."
"Rest assured, Hokage-sama," Natsuhiko replied with a faint smile, giving a slight nod. "I won't disappoint you. In the end, they're nothing more than a disorganized rabble."
"That's good."
Hiruzen nodded seriously, but then let out a long, almost wistful sigh.
"Working with you has truly been a pleasure. Your wisdom and capability are both… remarkable, enough to earn my genuine admiration."
He paused briefly before continuing, his voice carrying a subtle weight.
"I don't think we need to remain so opposed to each other. Of course, I can't promise anything—I don't know what kind of agreement you've reached with Minato Namikaze. But I will say this… Minato can be overly idealistic at times. Perhaps that's exactly why you chose to align yourself with him."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"But you and I—we're the same kind of people. I could feel it clearly from our conversation last night."
"Following Minato may bring you greater gains, but the path won't be smooth. Still… you have other choices. I believe you understand what I mean."
"As for the matter of the Senju… someone as intelligent as you, standing in my position back then, wouldn't fail to understand the choice I made. In fact, I believe… you might have been even more ruthless. More decisive. Am I wrong?"
With that, Hiruzen fell silent, his eyes fixed steadily on Natsuhiko, as though waiting for an answer.
Natsuhiko, however, was momentarily stunned.
On the surface, he remained calm, his expression unchanged—but inwardly, he couldn't help but feel caught off guard.
This old man… was actually trying to win him over?
For a brief moment, his thoughts turned strangely tangled. But after a bit of reflection, things began to make sense.
Perhaps it was his performance over this period, combined with their conversation the previous night, that led Hiruzen to make such a decision—one that, at first glance, seemed almost impulsive.
After all, Natsuhiko had always positioned himself on Konoha's side. And as someone who had come from another world, carrying a broader and more advanced perspective, there were moments where even Hiruzen found himself quietly impressed.
From that angle, this seemingly unrealistic attempt at recruitment was, in fact, entirely in line with Hiruzen's character.
After a moment of thought, Natsuhiko simply smiled and shook his head.
"Hokage-sama, what are you saying? I'm the head of the ANBU—I've always stood behind you."
"Is that so?" Hiruzen's expression showed a trace of disappointment. "Are you certain… that you stand behind me?"
"No," Natsuhiko corrected gently, his tone still calm, but this time he emphasized each word. "I stand behind the Hokage."
The distinction was subtle, yet unmistakable.
"As ANBU, our loyalty lies with the Hokage."
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly understanding the implication.
"Then… do you not wish to become Hokage yourself?"
"Becoming Hokage is the dream of every child in Konoha," Natsuhiko replied, meeting his gaze with the same composed smile. "I'm no exception. I've told you this before, haven't I? It's always been my dream."
"I see…" Hiruzen murmured, as if piecing things together. "So your disagreement with me, your decision to follow Minato… in truth, your goal is no different from mine?"
Yet even as he said it, he slowly shook his head, as though unconvinced by his own conclusion.
"You… you're not the same as me. I want Minato Namikaze to truly understand and embrace my way of thinking. But you—"
"Hokage-sama, the world is changing. The shinobi world is changing as well. No one can claim they're absolutely right."
Natsuhiko cut him off calmly, showing no intention of continuing this line of discussion. Not here, and not now. Besides, he had already made up his mind.
If this had been the past, he would have gladly moved closer to Hiruzen Sarutobi while maintaining his connection with Minato, skillfully navigating between the two Hokage to gain everything he wanted, step by step, until he achieved his ultimate goals.
But things were different now.
Leaving aside the fact that he already knew what lay ahead for Hiruzen, he himself was no longer the same naive youth he once was.
He had no intention of living under someone else's roof anymore. Especially now that he had already laid his cards on the table with Minato, he would follow his own path—steadily, unwaveringly, and according to his own plan.
"I understand what you mean," Hiruzen said after a brief silence, nodding slowly. "Then… we'll let the future decide."
"We'll let the future decide," Natsuhiko echoed with a faint smile. "I'm sure that, in every aspect, I won't disappoint you, Hokage-sama."
Hiruzen fell silent again, though this time he understood all too clearly what Natsuhiko meant.
In every aspect…
He couldn't help but shake his head inwardly.
That meant whether it was opposing him… or governing Konoha itself, Natsuhiko was confident he would surpass expectations.
There was no mistaking the confidence in that young man's words—and disturbingly enough, Hiruzen couldn't deny that he had every right to be so confident.
After all, the difficult situation they currently found themselves in… was, to a large extent, thanks to this very "kid."
...
After parting ways with Hiruzen, Natsuhiko quickly concealed his presence and made his way toward the Daimyō's palace.
Their conversation had gone far enough. Though it hadn't been particularly pleasant, it wouldn't interfere with what needed to be done.
At its core, their disagreement was merely a matter of internal conflict within Konoha.
When it came to protecting Konoha's interests—or even expanding their own influence within it—both of them would set aside their differences and focus on completing the mission at hand.
Their roles, however, were different.
As Hokage, Hiruzen needed to meet with the Daimyō, to "negotiate," to "communicate," and to "strengthen mutual understanding and trust."
Of course, that was just the version meant for public consumption.
In reality, it was nothing more than empty talk.
To put it bluntly, Hiruzen's task was to pressure the Daimyō—to remind him exactly where he stood.
As for Natsuhiko, his role was much simpler.
He would make the Daimyō understand just how far Konoha's resolve—and its stance—had already gone.
There was no such thing as playing the "good cop" or the "bad cop" here. Their objective was the same:
To drag the Daimyō down into the abyss.
The only real difference was that Hiruzen didn't need to dirty his hands.
That responsibility fell to Natsuhiko, the head of ANBU.
"…What a display of luxury."
After silently slipping into the palace, Natsuhiko took in the surroundings and couldn't help but shake his head at the sheer extravagance before him.
But the reaction passed quickly.
After all, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire was unimaginably wealthy. The fortune accumulated by his family over generations was beyond comprehension—so vast that even funding an entire shinobi village barely made a dent.
Of course, such investment came with returns.
By supporting the growth of the hidden villages, the Daimyō in turn received protection and convenience—allowing his wealth to continue growing, faster than ever before.
In a way, this could be considered a kind of positive cycle.
The two sides depended on each other, yet their positions were far from equal.
It was hard to say how things worked in other nations, but within the Land of Fire, Konoha—the very first hidden village ever established—had always held the upper hand. In essence, it was Konoha that chose the Daimyō, not the other way around.
Natsuhiko moved forward at an unhurried pace, his perception spreading outward like an invisible net. In an instant, he locked onto a specific room.
Inside, eleven shinobi had gathered together, each with a respectable level of chakra.
What puzzled him, however, was why they were all assembled in one place instead of guarding the Daimyō.
As his protectors, they should have been stationed in rotating shifts around him at all times, ensuring that no unexpected incident could occur.
Yet that wasn't the case.
While this arrangement made things far more convenient for Natsuhiko, it also raised a faint sense of caution in his mind. Something about this situation felt… off.
"Has Hiruzen Sarutobi already arrived?"
Before he could dwell on it further, a familiar chakra signature suddenly entered his perception. The moment he recognized it, he knew he had to move faster.
"Forget it. Whatever you're planning… it's better to just wipe you all out in one go."
With that thought, his figure vanished silently. Avoiding several guards without making a sound, he soon arrived outside the room.
"…Damn it, why is there still no news about Kazuma? What exactly happened to him?" A faint voice drifted through the door, so soft that an ordinary person would never have noticed it. But Natsuhiko was no ordinary shinobi.
Gathering intelligence under extreme conditions was second nature to him, something he hadn't forgotten even after becoming the commander of ANBU.
And that single sentence was enough for him to piece everything together.
So that was it.
It all traced back to him.
Because he had captured Kazuma, these people had been unable to find him all day, forcing them to gather here to exchange information and figure out what had happened.
With that realization, a faint smile tugged at Natsuhiko's lips.
His confidence only grew when, within his perception, a figure resembling a samurai hurried toward the room. It confirmed that he had found the right group.
"You—"
Before the man could finish speaking, Natsuhiko flashed behind him. With a swift chop to the neck, he knocked the samurai unconscious.
Forming a one-handed seal, he transformed himself into the man's appearance, then dragged the body aside and concealed it in a corner before calmly walking up to the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
He rapped lightly and waited.
Almost instantly, the room fell silent.
A moment later, the door opened.
Standing there was a bald man dressed like a monk.
"…Musashi-san?" The man froze briefly upon seeing Natsuhiko's transformed appearance, then asked, "Has the Daimyō summoned us?"
"Yes," Natsuhiko replied with a slight nod, his gaze sweeping casually across the room.
In that brief instant, he had already mapped out everyone's positions and formed a precise assessment.
He was confident he could deal with them all easily—but caution was always preferable when possible.
Even if he was willing to take risks when the rewards justified it, that sense of vigilance had long since become instinct.
"I understand, Musashi-san," the monk said seriously, then smiled faintly. "We'll assign personnel immediately. Please wait a moment."
"No." Natsuhiko shook his head lightly, a faint smile forming on his lips. "This time… I'm afraid I'll need all of you to come along."
"Oh?" Chiriku gave him a puzzled look. "What's the matter, Musashi-san?"
"The Hokage has arrived," Natsuhiko replied, his smile deepening ever so slightly. "So this time, everyone will need to go together."
"The Hokage is here?" Chiriku clearly hadn't been informed of this, but his expression immediately turned serious. "Understood. We'll gather at once and head over."
"Apologies, shinobi," Natsuhiko interrupted again, his tone calm but carrying an unsettling undertone. "You do need to go… but not like that."
At that moment, Chiriku finally sensed that something was off.
If the Hokage had truly arrived, why did this man still wear such a gentle, almost pleasant smile? There wasn't the slightest trace of urgency or tension on his face. And the words he spoke only made things more confusing.
Even someone dull would realize by now—
Something was wrong with this "Musashi."
"Musashi-san," Chiriku frowned, raising his voice to alert the others in the room. "What exactly do you mean?"
"What do I mean?" Natsuhiko slowly lifted his head, the curve of his smile turning strange, almost chilling. "It's quite simple."
"You won't be going there on your feet."
"What I need…"
"...is for you to go lying down."
"Y-you… who exactly are you—"
The room fell into chaos.
Moments later, eleven figures lay scattered across the ground in disarray.
Some still clung to life, their breaths faint and uneven. Others had already collapsed into pools of blood, unmoving. A few, barely conscious, could still speak.
Chiriku was among the latter.
He glared at the man before him—still wearing Musashi's face—but his body screamed in agony, each word he tried to force out costing him immense effort.
What had just happened…?
Not just him—everyone still alive was gripped by the same disbelief.
In the mere seconds after that mocking declaration, all eleven of them had been brought to this state.
They hadn't seen a thing.
No one knew what "Musashi" had done, nor how he had attacked.
All they remembered was a fleeting, terrifying impression—
Like witnessing a phantom.
A ghostly figure that flickered through the room in an instant, appearing beside each of them as if it had always been there. Then came the flashes of steel, the sudden bloom of blood mist—
And before they could react, they were already on the ground, utterly powerless to resist.
Such speed… such a method of attack…
In that instant, a chilling thought surfaced in their minds.
Space-time ninjutsu.
Because that level of speed had already surpassed human comprehension. It simply wasn't something a human should be capable of.
And yet, space-time techniques were exceedingly rare.
Even in Konoha, there were only two known users.
One was the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze.
The other was the so-called "Nightingale of Konoha," a figure who had once humiliated Sunagakure.
But both of them were Konoha shinobi. One was even the Hokage himself.
There was no reason for them to act against the Daimyō's guards like this. If anything, they should have been working together.
Moreover, they all knew of Konoha's space-time technique—the Flying Thunder God. It required pre-placed markers to function.
Yet this "Musashi" had thrown no kunai, placed no markers, used nothing of the sort.
That alone made the situation utterly incomprehensible.
"As for who I am…"
Natsuhiko looked down at the defeated group, then, after a brief pause, dispelled his transformation without hesitation.
The illusion faded.
He stood there in his true form, smiling faintly at those who still had the strength to look up at him.
"My name is Senju Natsuhiko."
"I am the commander of Konoha's ANBU."
"…Natsuhiko?"
Chiriku and the others froze at the introduction.
The name meant nothing to them.
Even though his surname stirred faint echoes of memory within them, none of them actually knew who Natsuhiko was.
However, the title "Cmmander of the ANBU" was enough to make their pupils contract slightly.
The ANBU commander was no longer just a shadow-bound existence. It was a position that stood at the edge of darkness and light—someone who could step into the open and wield real authority.
As far as they knew, the commander of ANBU was Murashima Takumi—a silent, cold, and overwhelmingly powerful man.
Since when… had that position been taken by a mere youth?
Could it be related to what happened on the night of the Nine-Tails' attack?
Or was this entire situation some kind of elaborate deception?
Natsuhiko watched the confusion and uncertainty in their eyes and gave a faint shake of his head before speaking again.
"Perhaps my name doesn't ring any bells," he said calmly. "But that doesn't matter."
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"My codename in ANBU… that might be more familiar to you."
"You can call me—Nightingale."
"…Nightingale?"
The moment that name left his lips, Chiriku and the others understood.
Any lingering doubt about his identity vanished instantly.
The Nightingale of Konoha.
That name carried a reputation built upon countless fallen shinobi—a title as fearsome as a demon forged from blood.
"Sir… why…?" Chiriku clutched his abdomen, his voice strained with pain as he forced out the question. "Why would you do this? We—"
"Don't speak," Natsuhiko interrupted gently, his tone almost kind. "The more you talk, the faster you'll bleed—and the sooner you'll die."
He looked at Chiriku with a faint, almost regretful smile, then sighed softly.
"I know what you're wondering. Why I attacked you, right?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"The answer is simple. You've been wondering why that man Kazuma disappeared, haven't you?"
"That's because… I already captured him."
"And he was doing something rather interesting."
"Kazuma… was captured by you?" Chiriku's eyes widened despite the pain. "What exactly—"
"Why, you ask?" Natsuhiko's smile deepened ever so slightly. "Because you've been collecting the Nine-Tails' chakra."
"…That's impossible! How could that be?!"
—
Inside the chamber where the Daimyō was meeting Hiruzen Sarutobi, the atmosphere had already turned suffocating.
Hiruzen sat calmly, composed as ever, while the Daimyō stared at him in shock and disbelief, cold sweat forming on his brow.
He had originally assumed this meeting would be nothing more than a routine discussion regarding Konoha's affairs.
Never in his wildest dreams did he expect Hiruzen to reveal something so horrifying—
That the shinobi under his command had been secretly collecting the Nine-Tails' chakra.
Worse still, they had been caught in the act.
This wasn't just a problem—it was a death sentence.
Under normal circumstances, it might have been manageable. But now?
The Nine-Tails had only recently attacked Konoha, causing catastrophic losses.
For such a revelation to surface at a time like this… the consequences were unthinkable.
"I, too, found it hard to believe at first," Hiruzen said slowly, lifting his head as his voice turned heavy with meaning. "But the truth remains the same, my lord. Perhaps… you have been deceived."
"This…" The Daimyō swallowed hard, forcing a strained smile onto his face. "I think… this matter deserves a thorough investigation. What do you say, Hokage-sama?"
"It certainly does." A voice suddenly echoed through the room.
At that very moment—
Twelve bodies came crashing down from above, slamming violently onto the ground.
Cries of pain mixed with the sickening spray of blood, and the Daimyō trembled uncontrollably, his fear laid bare.
He slowly lifted his gaze toward the ceiling.
There, standing above, was a young man with his arms crossed.
A faint smile rested on his face.
Moments later, he leapt down lightly, landing before them with effortless grace, and spoke in a calm, almost courteous tone:
"My name is Senju Natsuhiko, commander of Konoha's ANBU."
He looked at the Daimyō, his smile unwavering.
"Since the matter is already here—why not investigate it now, on the spot?"
"What do you think?"
...
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